


Positive Influence

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn was good for him - he knew that</p>
            </blockquote>





	Positive Influence

By late June they had settled into a rhythm so far as patrol went - Willow found a scout position, and sent them out into the field, Spike taking point, with Giles and Xander fanning out to work the sides. Spike wasn't thrilled with the arrangement, since it left their backs unguarded, but when Willow dragged the Bot out and said it would be their rear guard, he was even less pleased, and he wasn't shy about letting her know it. Words had been exchanged, voices rose to levels that could only be called shouting, and the whole thing could very easily have denigrated into something very nasty and even dangerous if Dawn hadn't stepped in and begged them both to stop.

The Slayer's sister had changed the most out of all of them, taking on a new self-possession and quiet assurance that went a long way towards keeping them all balanced. Oh, they could say they were working together for the greater good all they wanted, but the truth was that it was Dawn that kept them from going for each other's throats, the need to give her as stable a home as possible driving all of them to an unwilling and grudging peace. All it took was a look from her to cut one of Xander's frequent rants short or a brief touch to settle Spike back down when it was obvious that he was about two seconds from attacking someone, chip or no chip.

Spike in particular spent almost every spare moment he had with her - the ones that didn't involve getting drunk or killing things, that was. He wasn't a saint, after all, far from it, in fact, and asking him to bear his grief without the release of either alcohol or mayhem would have sorely tested his sanity. Thankfully, Dawn seemed to understand that without needing to be told, although he still promised her every time he left that he'd come back. She always breathed a little easier once she heard that, and he understood - they needed each other in a way the others didn't, were bound together in a way that was as much about self-flagellation as it was comfort. Having her close halved his pain and tripled his guilt. He didn't know how she could stand to be around him, seeing as he'd cost her her sister, but he wasn't about to remind her of his failure when she sought him out for another one of their endless card games.

Dawn was good for him - he knew that, and he suspected the witches did as well, even though he doubted they'd admit it. She soothed him, quieted the relentless screaming inside and eased the howling urge to tear every living thing around him apart for the simple crime of not being Buffy. Her presence was... irenic. No sooner had the word occurred to him than he wanted to roar, _Damn it, William, get out of my head!_ There was nothing he hated more than being reminded of the pathetic ponce he'd once been, so in love with words that he hadn't bothered to go out and experience the life behind them. But the word lingered, refusing to be dispelled, and Spike was forced to admit, if only to himself, that it suited her.

She'd been given a pretty raw deal, and she was handling it better than most. Not too many teenage girls lost a mother and sister within a few months of each other, and fewer still had to deal with the knowledge that they weren't a girl at all, but an ancient key with the power to tear worlds apart. Factor in the heartbroken vampire that had adopted her and been adopted in turn, the two powerful witches that oversaw her daily needs, and the defection of the closest thing she'd ever had to a father, his pain driving him to a bottle rather than her side, and he was surprised she wasn't just curled into a little ball in a corner somewhere bawling her head off. Hell, he was about two steps away from that, and he didn't have half her excuse.

The others all expected him to leave - he knew that, just as he knew that they were surprised every time he showed up for patrol. And he'd thought about it, imagined getting into his car and driving away one night, but he couldn't. Not yet, anyways. There would be time for that later, when Dawn was older, when she was finished with school and able to go with him, but for now he'd made a promise... and he intended to keep it.


End file.
